A Mother's Journey
by Deldour
Summary: Sesirrael Seabearer has earned herself the reputation as a victim through her own murdering and suffering throughout many millennia. Now with leverage on her curse, she struggles to bring joy to a daughter that also had to witness such atrocities.


Sesirrael stood there, right at the base of what was once her home. This was not the home where she had been lead astray by dark magics, however, nor was it the home of the one she once loved. No, she stood in the Scarlet Enclave, or at least the ruins of it. It was a land that she had helped destroy under the command of the Lich King, but this building which she peered into was where she had tortured her daughter so long ago.

'How could I have been so cruel,' she would ask herself. In this place that reeked of death and littered with bones, the agonizing cries of Trixiriel had once echoed throughout these wooden walls. Her corruption was indeed effective in bringing Sesirrael to do things that she never would have dreamed of before.

When she was younger, she was indeed much like Trixiriel. So much so that Sesirrael often looked to her daughter and saw herself. There was a joy to be found in this fact. A joy that pushed the death knight to continue her existence, even post the torture. Hope that she may find some way to protect her daughter and make up for all of the wrong that she had brought to her. A wish that all of the death and pain could somehow be forgiven.

The death knight stepped inside now, trailing her metallic finger against the walls. 'How despicable I was,' she would think with shame. This guilt had been eating away at her for well over a year now when the torture first took place, but her soul could feel the damage of thousands of years.

Night was to blame for all of this. Her family curse. The corruption that branded her as the fist of it's will. It was a taint that lingered within her even still, but it was one that she had greatly pushed back. The void energies were much easier to manage when you were undead like Sesirrael was. Especially when it was your second time facing undeath. Yet even after the last ten thousand years, what had she to show for all of the research and fighting back?

Broken homes. She had destroyed her home in Kel'Theril by slaughtering every single member of her family that could be spotted, and by subjugating her niece to the same fate she was forced to endure. She had abandoned her home with her love, Xailaraa Kualohr, by sentencing the child that they had brought to this world to her untimely demise as an infant. Even the recognition now that it was not all Xailaraa's fault but her own did not make her shake that feeling of sheer and utter hatred.

When would she be allowed to feel the way she normally did? Was this just the new normal now?

Sesirrael found a tossed over chair upstairs in the room she used to 'sleep' at. In reality, it was the primarily location of the house she had tortured Trixiriel. Sitting down, she began to wonder just what she was trying to accomplish. Why torture Trixiriel like this? Why let her live when she clearly was hiding in the closet so many years ago? What was Night trying to do to her?

It had all of the opportunities to fully corrupt Trixiriel. There was so much time and ability to just twist her to Night's will. 'Why did it wait so long for me to snap?' Sesirrael's brows furrowed. This was not something she had considered before. Several thousand years had passed before she finally did kill someone and declare an eternal hatred to Xailaraa. Why?

The answer to that was quite simple. She was weak. Sesirrael was once a woman that couldn't hurt even a bug and stuttered with nearly every word. That stutter was gone now, and she was punching her mate by the time she had her great snap.

Was this what Night was attempting to make her do? To make Trixi just like her? The thought was unthinkable, but a realization would come to mind as she stared into the corner of the room in which Trixiriel used to sleep. 'Will Trixi ever be safe if I am trying to protect her all of the time?'

No. Trixi is the most precious person that Sesirrael had ever known. She was arguably even her favorite daughter, but she had taught her favorite daughter to be weak, shy, and afraid of the world? What kind of mother was she?

The death knight stood up from her seat. Night had actually been helping her, in a way. Not in the way she would have preferred, but in a way. A sudden sense of determination would course through Sesirrael, fueling her to just do _something_ to make her daughter not someone to be messed with. How would she accomplish this, however? This is without mentioning Estarini, and Alara. Would Mysti approve of these methods she was now considering?

She likely would not. Did Alara even have enough of a bond with her to toughen up in the ways she was now hoping she would? Sesirrael doubted it. As much as she loved the two of them, the chances there were not in her favor. No, she would need to press her focus on the daughters she had the closest bonds to. There was hope for them.

 _No sense in allowing the other two to drag them down. Look beyond them. Are they family to you? When is Mysti here when you are suffering alone and being forced to make the hard choices? Forget them. Mysti looks past much of who you are, if not most of who you are. She does not love you, nor does Alara. Find Estarini and Trixiriel. Do what must be done to make them strong enough to survive in this world. Does anything else truly matter to you?_

Night's words stung, Sesirrael had to admit, but there was truth in them. Her and Mysti never did spend too much time in each other's company. Perhaps it was her fault though. The death knight, after all, did do much to avoid her own mate. She did so very much to make sure that they were apart.

Would it hurt her to be abandoned? Perhaps. Would it hurt her more to remain by Sesirrael's side as Estarini and Trixiriel were put through this demanding but necessary change? Without a doubt.

 _You see now, Sesirrael? You are the conduit to the will of Night, and all we want is for our family to be whole and strong once more._

Sesirrael nodded. "Perhaps," she began. A frown was forming on her face. "But I know how to take care of our family far better than you _ever_ will." Her eyes would begin to glow a dark purple as she began to channel the void magics throughout her system fully, but this time it would not be out of embrace nor resistance to Night.

This time it would be control. A new will had been found. The will to make her daughters stronger and assure that they would never be at the risk of death again. She made her way down the stairs and out of the building, towards the old Scarlet forge that lingered to the north.

 _What is this? What are you doing, Sesirrael?_

Sesirrael chuckled grimly. "I don't need your guidance anymore, but do not fear, little Night: I still have some small use for you even still." The void energy flickered. Night was not used to this. Resistance, naturally, but this controlling, authoritative tone? What has gotten into the death knight this time?

She would make her way to the forge, which had been killed long ago. Her prosthetic hand would begin to bellow with energy. Chaos flames were forming above the fel-metal palms. No dead forge was going to stop her. The death knight angled her hand into the forge and sprayed the magic into it, relighting the forge with chaos fire.

 _Consider your actions more carefully, Fear Harbinger. We have given you the strength you wield now. We, your family, who have never abandoned you. You would attempt to forsake us at this time? Again? After we have given you this chance to protect your daughters?_

"No...I shall not let go of you, family dearest...You shall **never** be allowed to have that freedom which you have denied me." Sesirrael looked to the corpse of a scarlet knight in the corner. An axe had been plunged deep into his guts. She stepped closer and would wrap her metallic hand around the hilt, her boot finding his chest to swiftly pull it out, sending bits of decayed flesh around the room.

Sesirrael set the axe above the forge, hanging it by the loose chains that dangled from the ceiling above. "You have wielded me, dearest Night." She rolled her neck back, allowing the decayed cartilage to crack in response. The death knight would need to have everything able to flow properly if she was to do this correctly.

"And now, I shall wield you. My daughters will learn that they are undefeatable, uncontrollable. Thank you, my family. My dearest, shattered family souls...For blessing me with your usable, and pathetic existences."

Sesirrael would unsheathe her twin blades and stick them into the ground, right next to each other. They, too, were infused with the souls of those she killed. Her prosthetic hand would grip their hilts tightly. Although it was not her true hand, it worked well enough for her to use the unholy magics through it. She would do this exactly and latch onto all of the souls within, sucking them out and through herself.

Night would follow them, attempting to absorb them. Sesirrael knew this. Her tests on her own version of Night had proven this. Her good hand would grasp firmly to the axe, sending the souls to the axe. The void would follow like a magnet, seeping violently out of Sesirrael's hand after the fresh collection of souls.

The axe would begin to take on a malformed appearance. The screams of the innocent souls being shattered by Night would ring out. Sesirrael would be sporting a devilish grin though. She had commanded Night to go somewhere.

Half of the elf's corruption was now in this axe, while the remaining half lingered within her own form. She had to make sure that what corruption she had in there though would not attempt to seep back into her own form in the hopes to re-obtain control over her. That was simply unacceptable.

Sesirrael let go of the axe, but this was magic. The distance would mean nothing. She grabbed her blades, both of them, with her two hands and would slash it through the chains, breaking them. The axe would fall into the chaos fire, searing Night's energies into it through the superior magics' usage.

Night would begin to scream violently. Voices, individual ones for once, would come out from the flames to beg Sesirrael to pull them out. "It burns, Sesi!" Her mother would say. "You can't do this! Let us out! Let us out!" Her grandfather would say. "But we loved you," Her sister would say. They all would continue to cry out.

The death knight would lean over the forge and remove her helm, setting it off to the side. Her grin did not even lessen. She simply chuckled at them. "I will take _good_ care of you, family dearest. Do not fear~."


End file.
